I know I've probably pretty much beat this topic to death with a stick here on the ol' blog, but it's a recurring issue in our household, and need I remind you that this is MY blog? I can write about what I want. (insert raspberry here)
The strong-willed child.
Jeran, someday if you are reading this (and if you are, I know that you are a balanced, well-rounded, perfectly capable adult and that you ADORE your mother) I would hate for your self-esteem to take a hit. Just know that as I tear my hair out over your behavior (I'm not bald in the future, am I?), it's in a loving manner.
This week has been epic. If scales were to be loaded up with moments of peace versus moments of war in this household, the scales would not only list viciously toward the latter, they would tilt then completely break off due to the weight of this week's battles. I'm really not exaggerating when I say that nearly every waking moment has been a verbal Ultimate Fighting Championship of Mom vs. J. For some reason Jeran has decided that it is well worth his while to have a fit/tantrum/nuclear meltdown over every. single. issue. What's for breakfast, leaving for school, how and when to put on his socks, what to watch/play and when. It goes on and on. And on. There have been tears (oh, so many tears - and not just his), so many raised voices, so many consequences/punishments, so many highly emotional reactions to said consequences/punishments. And I just find myself weary and confused. How have we escalated to this point? I felt like there was some headway being made toward maturity on his end regarding these issues, and then this week exploded into our lives like a firework gone wrong.
James (AKA: The Voice of Reason) has pointed out that I've been tightening the reins a bit where our oldest child is concerned. This is true. My eyes have really been opened to what I allow him to get away with, the areas where I back down when I should remain firm. So it seems only natural that he keeps pushing back to see if and when I'll break. However, there have been moments this week when I have not even recognized my own child, and the amount of emotion he has exhibited has been frightening in its intensity.
I am fully confident that God is with us on this journey and will lead us through to the other side. I know that James and I and Jeran will be stronger people because of it, and I hope that through it all we become more dependent on the Lord and closer to Him. But, let's face it, I also hope that tomorrow there are no fits/tantrums/nuclear meltdowns. I hope that I don't yell and despair but also that I don't give in. I hope that my child doesn't look back on these years and only remember a disciplining, unhappy, frustrated mom. I hope, I hope, I hope.
I have hope.
